


We're All Mad Here

by SuperWhoLockianFangirl



Series: Just One Yesterday [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series, Supernatural, Teen Titans (Animated Series), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: And fuck DC for retconning that, Angst, Barbara Gordon is Oracle, Because he is so very bad at feelings, Bruce does not approve of these shenanigans, Coming Out, Dean and Dick still have to work out some issues, Dean wasn't really fooling anyone, Ghosts, Gratuitous Swearing, Haunted Aslyum, Identity Reveal, Idiots in Love, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mostly Dean, Probably more flashbacks, Sam Winchester and Tim Drake are totes BFFs, Seriously I just enjoy using the work fuck, Spirits, The Author Regrets Nothing, Undercover, Violence, batbros, batfamily, prison riots, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 17:38:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6620002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperWhoLockianFangirl/pseuds/SuperWhoLockianFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>ON TEMPORARY HIATUS--details in notes on most recent chapter</b>
</p>
<p>After teaming up with Jason to take down a vampire nest, Sam and Dean find themselves pulled into Batfamily business when Jason's brothers show up needing help with a potential haunting--in Arkham Asylum. Things go from bad to worse as the Winchesters and the Batclan try to figure out just what is going on inside the hospital without getting anyone else killed in the process.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, Dean and Dick still have some things to work through. A decade apart and years of repressed feelings don't just fix themselves with one quick make-out session, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel! Yay. So, yeah, I decided that I couldn’t leave this storyline alone; Dean and Dick are just too much fun. Plus, I never got to write Sam interacting with Tim, Damian and Dick and that is just SHAMEFUL.
> 
> This first chapter is much shorter than I wanted, but it's also been sitting in my computer for _months_ going absolutely nowhere and I decided that I needed to post something, if only to show anyone interested that I am not, in fact, dead.
> 
> I’d like to give huge thanks to my lovely friend Xinyi for her help plotting through most of this and giving me tons of awesome ideas--she is amazing.

****_“But I don’t want to go among mad people,” Alice remarked._  
“Oh, you can’t help that,” said the Cat. “We’re all mad here. I’m mad, you’re mad.”  
“How do you know I’m mad?” said Alice.  
“You must be,” said the Cat. “Or you wouldn’t have come here.”

**_—_ Lewis Carroll, _Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland_**

****

\--

 

The high Dean had been riding out in the alley vanished the second he and Dick walked back into the bar and he spotted Dick’s brothers gathered around their table with Sam. It hit him like a punch to the gut. Tim and Damian had seen Dean kissing Dick. They _knew_. And there was no way that he was going to be able to convince Dick or his brothers to keep that a secret, especially not after their moment in the alley. Especially not when wanting to keep it secret was what had torn them apart in the first place. Sam would be suspicious anyway, after his reaction to Dick. He would want answers that Dean wasn’t sure he was ready to give him just yet.

Dean clenched his hands into tight fists. He had faced demons, ghouls, werewolves—an entire assortment of horrifying supernatural monsters. Why was facing his little brother sending a spike of fear through his gut greater than any of that nightmarish shit? It shouldn’t be. This was Sam. The boy he’d pulled from a burning building. _Twice._ The boy he had practically raised. Logically, he knew that Sam would not hate him, not for this. But Dean Winchester had never been very good at the whole “logic” thing.

Warm fingers suddenly wound around his wrist and pressed gently. Dean looked over to see Dick smiling softly at him and his fist loosened a bit to let Dick lace their fingers together. He squeezed them and took a deep breath before stepping up to the table. His chest was tight and his palms were clammy, but Dick never let him go, standing right there the whole time.

“Dean!” Sam looked up at him, smiling. His brows were drawn together in confusion. “Where the hell’d you go?” He didn’t seem to notice Dean’s fingers twined together with Dick’s at first. Dean saw the instant he did, his eyes going wide and lighting with a suddenly sharp and knowing look, lips parting in shock.

He cleared his throat and hurriedly tugged his hand out of Dick’s, speaking before Sam could say anything else.

“Had to work something out with Dick,” he said.

Damian, who was looking up at the two of them with a knowing smirk, snorted. “From where we were standing it looked like you were doing more than ‘working something out’.”

Dick swiftly kicked him in the ankle. “Hush, Dami.”

Sam cleared his throat awkwardly. “So you two know each other then,” he said.

“Obviously,” Jason said, eyeing Dean and Dick speculatively. He cocked his head to the side. “So… hang on a second. This is _that_ Dean? The guy Babs said broke your heart in high school?”

Dick scowled. “I never said—He didn’t break my heart. We dated, we broke up. Shit happened,” he snapped defensively, crossing his arms and glaring down at his brother.

Sam, oddly enough, didn’t react to the revelation that Dean had apparently dated Dick in high school. _Dated_. God, now he was using that word. He cringed mentally and tried to keep his thoughts in order. He had damage to minimize.

“Something you wanna tell me, Dean?” Sam asked. There was amusement in his voice. Fucking _amusement_. Like this was all some hilarious misadventure in the life of Dean Winchester. He scowled and clenched his fists again.

“Yeah, alright,” he snapped. “Dick was my… boyfriend for a few months.” God _damnit_ that word tasted weird in his mouth. “We screwed around. So what?”

Sam raised a brow in that condescending, patronizing way of his and Dean wanted to deck him one good time just to wipe that look off of his face.

“So… nothing…?” Sam said, voice raising a bit at the end of the second word. “I don’t care who you screw around with Dean. Or who you screwed around with in high school. That is a list longer than my fucking arm, dude. It’s not like this is some huge revelation.”

Dean frowned. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. What? You want me to start ranting about homosexuality and fire and brimstone or something? I’m not some conservative pastor in a Baptist church, Dean. I’m your brother. I couldn’t care less who you fuck.”

“You seriously have nothing to say about this?” Dean demanded.

Dick smirked a bit, nudging him in the side. “I told you, Dean.”

Sam smiled. “Should I?”

Dean threw his hands up and sat down heavily next to his brother. “Jesus. That was a decade’s worth of freaking out over nothing.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Don’t blame me for you own fucked up psyche.”

The weird tension Dean had felt dissipated some. He could still feel eyes on him whenever Dick sat down next to him and carefully wrapped their hands together. He tugged it away and Dick let it go, glancing at him sharply, but not saying a word. Hopefully he could at least understand how very much Dean was not going to be into the whole PDA thing. Especially not holding hands like he was some fucking _girl_ , Christ.

“Well,” Jason leaned forward, changing the subject. “Now that that weirdness is all sorted out, how’s about someone tells me why I’m lucky enough to have my dinner crashed by not one, but _three_ annoying little birds.” He paused, glanced at Dick and corrected himself. “Or should I say one _big bird_ and two little birds.”

“Ha, hilarious, Jay,” Dick rolled his eyes. “We’re here about Arkham. We need all-hands-on-deck here, and we figured you’d want in.” He glanced sideways at Dean and Sam. “And, after talking to Dean about your last case, I figure we can use his and Sam’s help too.”

“Whoa,” Jason leaned back, looking a bit stunned. “Not only are you asking _me_ for help, but you’re asking two total strangers to come in on this? You must be desperate. That, or Bruce is out of town.”

Dick frowned. “A bit of both, actually.”

“Um,” Sam leaned forward. “What exactly are we talking about here?” he asked, looking from Dean to Dick to Jason. “What’s going on?”

Looking around, Dick sighed. “We should probably go somewhere more private to have this talk, really.” He glanced over at Tim and Damian. “But the cliff-notes is this: we’ve got a problem that seems to be up yours and Dean’s alley. You’ve heard of Arkham, right? We think it might be haunted.”

Tim frowned. “Dick thinks it’s haunted. I think that’s a little far-fetched at the moment. We don’t have enough facts yet.”

“Either way, we could use the help. Dean agreed.”

Sam eyed Dean with a faint frown. “Okay, but… why exactly is Arkham your problem anyway?”

Tim shot Dick a hard look that reminded Dean far too much of Sam’s bitchface. “Yeah, Dick, why is Arkham our problem? Care to explain how we’re going to get Dean and Sam’s help here without bringing them in on _everything else_?”

Tim and Sam would be fucking best friends, Dean decided instantly. That was the same tone, the same annoying little patronizing look. Jesus. How were there two of him?

“Well,” Dick looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. “Kinda already spilled to Dean. So.”

“What!?” Damian seemed outraged. “Grayson! I know your mind is clouded with hormones at the moment, making you even stupider than usual, but how could you be that reckless? Without even speaking to us about it first!?”

Dick rolled his eyes. “I know, I know. I should’ve… I should’ve waited, talked it over with Bruce, but. We’re on a tight schedule here. Arkham’s starting to look like a ticking bomb. And I trust Dean.”

Jason laughed and shook his head. “Wow. Dickiebird making judgment calls based on what his dick’s saying. That’s almost funny.”

“Oh, shut up, Jason.” Dick scowled at him. “I made the call. I’ll deal with any consequences, I already said that. If Bruce wants to read me the riot act later he can. Right now, our priority is saving lives.” His eyes shot to Jason. “So are you in or what?”

Jason seemed to think about it for a second. “I don’t know. It’s kind of funny how you guys want nothing to do with me for months and then, the second you get yourselves in hot water you come running to me, begging for my help.”

“We aren’t _begging_ for anything, Todd,” Damian practically sneered. “We’re _offering_ to let you help us. And I for one think it’s a bad idea. We don’t need your help.”

Dick sighed and shot the younger boy an annoyed look. “We aren’t begging, he’s right about that. We’re asking, Jay. We want your help—” Damian snorted and Dick glared at him before continuing, “—Arkham is getting out of hand and we could really use another pair of hands in the field.”

Jason’s mouth pressed into a tight line and Dean leaned toward him. “C’mon, dude. They’re your family and they’re asking for help. How can you turn that down? Plus, haunted asylum full of crazy people. That alone is worth saying yes.”

Jason cracked a smile, but shook his head. “You don’t know them like I do, Dean. Family isn’t the word I’d use to describe us.”

“Something we can agree on,” Damian muttered. That time Dick stepped on his foot under the table, causing the kid to swear under his breath. Dean smirked.

“Look,” Tim said, “I know we don’t always get along, but we could really use the help, Jason. We’re all on the same side here, right? We just want to stop whoever—whatever is hurting people in Arkham. Please.”

For a moment, Jason was silent. Then he sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Okay, yeah. Can’t leave you hanging in the lurch, I guess. Besides, it _is_ Arkham. Bound to be interesting, at least.”

Sam was frowning, his lips pursed in that thoughtful way that meant his brain was turning wheels way too fast. “Why do I feel like I’m the only person here who doesn’t know what the hell is going on?”

Dick sighed, standing up. Tim and Damian followed suit. “Sorry. We’ll finish this later. Just, you guys finish up here and meet us back at the Cave, okay, Jay? I’ll lay everything out for you guys then.”

Jason nodded. “Right, we’ll be there in twenty. In the meantime,” he glanced at Dean. “I kinda want to know more about this doomed high school romance. Babs never gave me any details. Spill, Winchester.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Sam and Dean in the Batcave! Also, very likely Babs. Hopefully the next chapter will be longer as well. Not sure how long it will take to be posted, but I will get it up as soon as possible.
> 
> (Also, yes, this was partially inspired by _Arkham Asylum: A Serious House on Serious Earth_ and the SPN episode _Asylum_.)
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments and critique are welcome!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo! Second chapter! Finally. This took forever guys, I'm so sorry. And it still isn't quite where I want it to be. It's shorter than I would like and it just feels so... off in some places. But I can't quite pin down why so... here it is. Hope you guys enjoy!

They left the bar less than fifteen minutes later, Jason still trying to get Dean to tell him all the “gory details” about his previous relationship with Dick. Dean mostly ignored him, instead finding his eyes flitting over to Sam every couple of minutes, just to make sure that his brother wasn’t suddenly going to realize that he had very likely touched another guy’s junk at some point in the past. To his credit, Sam seemed more concerned with being left out of the loop about their impending case than the fact that his brother was queer. Dean still waited for the other shoe to drop.

“So,” Sam turned around to look at Jason in the backseat of the Impala. “Can either of you tell me _now_ , what’s going on?”

Dean snorted. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, Sammy. Trust me.”

Jason smiled a sharp little smile and nodded. “You heard Dickiebird,” he said. “Arkham’s got a ghost and apparently it ain’t Casper. That’s… really about as much as I can tell you. It’s—well it’s something you’ve probably got to see for yourself.” He glanced out the window. “Left up here,” he said, pointing to a narrow road that led off the bridge.

They were heading farther and farther away from the center of Gotham—to the outskirts, away from the docks and the skyscrapers and the smell of ozone and wet cement. Dean had been to Wayne Manor only once before but he was fairly certain that this wasn’t the way. He frowned, but followed Jason’s directions.

Sam made a face. “Could you be a little more vague?” he snapped. “I think I’m accidentally understanding something.”

Jason sighed and scooted forward, putting his arms up across the back of the bench seat. “Okay, fine. It’s probably a good idea for you two to be prepared before you just waltz in here anyway. You’ve heard of Batman, right?”

Sam lifted a brow, nodding slowly. “Of course. Founding member of the JLA and Gotham’s most famous vigilante.”

Jason’s lips puckered a bit, like he tasted something sour. “Right. Well, short version of the story is this: I didn’t get into the whole crime-fighting thing on my own. Batman had a hand in that.”

“You… worked with Batman?” Sam asked, sounding just a bit short of actually bursting out laughing. “Last I checked Batman had a pretty clear line drawn against taking lives.”

Dean glanced in the rearview mirror, spotting the way Jason’s entire face twisted into a horrible scowl. “He does have a point there,” he said. “You seem a little more kill-happy than the Dark Knight.”

“We disagree on the finer points of morality,” Jason said sharply. “But he did train me. And Dick, and Tim, and the little Hell Spawn you met back at the bar.”

“He trained all of you?”

“Dick was Robin Number One,” Jason said. “The Original, the Golden Boy. Etcetera. You’re lookin’ at Robin number two.” He jerked a thumb at his chest. “Tiny Tim was my Replacement after I—was gone for a while. And Hell Spawn is the current younger half of the Dynamic Duo.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sam suddenly was turned almost all the way around in the seat, staring wide-eyed at Jason. Dean was struck by flashbacks to the Halloweens when younger Sammy had insisted on being Batman and smiled a bit to himself.

“You’re—you were Robin? Seriously?”

Jason’s expression softened a bit at the awe in Sam’s voice. “Don’t get all star-struck,” he said. “I’m currently the black sheep of the Bat Family.”

“Well obviously, what with the all the apparent murder, but still.” Sam had that starry, awe-struck quality to his voice that Dean had only heard a few times—whenever Sam went off on weird tangents about some supernatural something that was apparently new and exciting, generally involving some form of old documents with new information, or when they were kids and Sam would constantly espouse the merits of the Justice League and all the good that they had done for the world. Not that Dean didn’t admire the JLA, of course, but he didn’t have all the documentaries, biographies, news articles, and tiny scraps of information on them memorized like Sam did.

(He did, however, have a few old Superman posters stowed away in the trunk, hidden underneath old Captain America comics.)

“I mean, you worked with the Batman,” Sam continued. “That’s. I mean—Wait.” He frowned for a second. “Hang on a second. I thought the second Robin was killed by the Joker years ago?”

Jason leaned back in the seat and went entirely still. Dean glanced in the rearview mirror again, frowning at the blank look on the younger man’s face.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I was.”

“But then, how—”

“Look, it’s a long and unpleasant story, okay? Short version is that I died and then I un-died. Let’s leave it at that,” he snapped. “It’s not something I really wanna talk about.”

Sam frowned and Dean glanced over at him, knowing that they were both thinking the same thing. Anything that could “un-kill” a person was bad news. His mind went back several months to the bogus faith healer, remembering the dead creepy eyes of the Reaper as it came for him. To his father dying just to get his head off the chopping block. A demon deal gone wrong? Nasty hoodoo spell? Whatever it was that had brought Jason back couldn’t have been anything friendly—it never was. He would have to talk to him about it more later on.

At the moment he was more concerned with the fact that the road Jason had led them to seemed to be going exactly nowhere.

“Um, did we take a wrong turn somewhere?” he asked, staring ahead at the solid wall of rock that was lit up in the Impala’s headlights.

Jason’s lips quirked a bit into a tiny little half smile. “No, keep driving. Straight ahead.”

Dean glanced back at Jason then back at the rocks. “Uh, yeah, no.”

“Trust me,” Jason insisted. “Just keep driving. We’ll be fine.”

Dean lifted his foot a little off the gas and almost pressed on the brakes, but… Jason hadn’t given them any reason not to trust them so far. He’d been honest about everything up ‘til now, so why start fucking them over now? They didn’t always have the best of luck trusting strangers, but Dean had felt some connection to Jason from the moment he’d met him, really. And Dick trusted him…

He pressed his foot harder on the gas and grinned a bit when Sam gripped the seat, giving him a horrified look.

“Dean, are you sure about—”

Whatever else Sam was going to say got swallowed up by the sound of the engine revving louder as Dean floored and it squeezed his eyes shut, sending them hurtling toward the rocks and probably certain death. Seconds later, after they should have been nothing but a nasty stain on the side of the wall, they were still rushing forward and Jason was in the backseat laughing.

Dean squinted his eyes open and slowly released the pressure on the accelerator, staring ahead in wonder. They had apparently passed straight through the wall and were still driving up a sharply inclined road that looked like it had been carved into an underground cave of some kind. There were lights glowing faintly ahead and the further they drove the more the road widened and opened up, rock and dirt giving way to pavement and slick tiles.

“Holy shit,” Sam whispered.

Jason was grinning from ear to ear.

“Man, I forget how much of a rush that can be,” he said. “It’s been too long. Dick used to like to race right at the wall like that with his eyes wide open…”

Dean was still breathing a little heavily, immensely glad that there wasn’t any sudden death or damage to his very recently repaired Baby.

“What the fuck was that?” he demanded.

“Some kind of _Harry Potter_ trick, apparently,” Sam said, almost too matter-of-factly. Dean glanced over at him and lifted a brow and Sam shrugged. “What?” he said defensively. “Tell me that didn’t remind you of Platform 9 ¾.”

Jason snorted. “It’s just a hologram,” he said. “Very good camouflage.”

“Very good _hologram_ ,” Dean said. “Looked real enough from the outside.”

“Yeah, well,” Jason shrugged. “Bruce can afford the best.”

Sam fidgeted in his seat while Dean continued up the incline at more reasonable speed. “So… Wait. I mean, when you guys are saying ‘Bruce’… I thought maybe, but…”

“Jesus, spit it out, Sammy,” Dean said, smirking a bit. Sam sighed and turned around to face Jason again.

“You’re saying… Bruce _Wayne_ is Batman? Seriously?”

Jason hesitated. “There are a lot of guys named Bruce.”

“Not many guys named Bruce who are apparently rich enough to have a sophisticated hologram hiding their secret lair. Also, I remember seeing on the news not long ago that Bruce Wayne had taken in another kid or something… Named Damian. And I definitely remember reading about him adopting Tim Drake after his parents died.”

“And Dick,” Dean said suddenly, frowning and remembering Dick’s words from so many years ago about being Bruce Wayne’s adopted son and how Bruce was really a great guy.

“Right,” Sam nodded. “So, yeah. He is definitely a common denominator there.”

“Jesus, what are you, his stalker?” Jason demanded.

“No, it’s—I’ve read a lot of articles about speculation for the Batman’s identity. Bruce Wayne’s name came up a couple of times in one of the better theories. I thought it was bullshit then, because Bruce Wayne’s such a public figure; how would he even have time to be a vigilante on top of everything else? But now… Well, I’m not a huge fan of coincidence…”

Jason seemed mildly impressed. “Well, I guess when you get it all together like that, two plus two equals four.”

Sam was leaning forward, practically pressing his face up against the windows as they pulled into what looked like an underground parking garage surrounded by a huge wall of computer monitors, weapons racks, and far too many glass display cases. Dean slowly pulled up next to three motorcycles and…

“Fuck. Is that—?”

“The Batmobile,” Jason said, with only a slight edge to his voice as he stared at the huge black car. Even the Impala looked a bit dwarfed next to her.

Dean let out a low whistle as he pulled the keys from the ignition. “Wow. Y’know, I always kind of fantasized about getting to drive that car…”

Jason snorted, an amused smirk playing on his face. “I met Bats trying to steal it,” he said.

Dean whirled around and stared at him. “Seriously?”

Jason nodded, grinning wider. “Absolutely,”

“Why am I not surprised?” Sam muttered before climbing out of the Impala and heading up a wide set of metal stairs toward where Dick and the others were gathered around the monitors.

“Ignore him,” Dean said. “He’s just jealous because that is awesome.”

Jason just shrugged and led the way up the stairs, holding himself far too stiffly for someone who had probably spent a good deal of time down here. Dean frowned wondered just how badly Jason and Batman’s “disagreement” over morals had really gone…

“This place is _amazing_ ,” Sam breathed. He sounded like he was one moment away from a goddamn orgasm and Dean would probably have felt more embarrassed to have him as a brother if he weren’t also in awe of the awesome set-up they had somehow managed to create in some dank underground cave.

Dick grinned brightly at them and spread his arms wide. “Welcome to the Batcave, boys,” he said, making his way over to Dean. Dean hesitated a moment before moving closer to him and relaxed just enough for Dick to kiss him lightly on the mouth before jerking away and looking immediately to Sam—who was still drooling over the computers.

“I figured Batman had to have some seriously advanced tech, but this... this is…” He ran his hand over the console and shook his head.

“Amazing?” Tim supplied with a sharp little grin. “You should see the things Babs can do with a computer. Batman is good, but she’s terrifying.”

Nerds. Dean almost rolled his eyes at them, but Damian was giving them all a death glare and he frowned at the kid.

“Well, now that our cover is sufficiently blown thanks to Grayson’s libido, can we perhaps talk about relevant matters?”

“Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree with him. Catch us up, Bird Boy. We don’t have all night.”

Dick sighed and moved back over to the console, fingers tapping away at the keys while he started to explain. “I assume Jason at least gave you guys both a general overview of what we’re doing here?”

“Uh, yeah. You guys are Batman’s sidekicks-slash-weird adopted family. Oh, and uh, the creepy rich guy who gave me and Sam that scholarship is apparently secretly a masked vigilante. Who know?” Dean said, coming to stand beside Dick, peering curiously over his shoulder. Dick laughed quietly and Tim shook his head with a small frown.

“I am nobody’s sidekick,” Damian said sharply. “And of the four of us, I am also Batman’s only son.”

“You’ll have to forgive Damian,” Tim said. “He’s not quite grasped the concept of familial bonds outside of blood. Or being polite to literally anyone.”

“He’s getting there,” Dick murmured, focused more intently on his work than the conversation.

“He’s also standing right here,” Damian said, folding his arms across his chest. He didn’t look very intimidating, small as he was, but there was something fierce in his eyes that told Dean and unpleasant story. A kid didn’t get that angry and vicious without something going terribly wrong in his childhood—and Dean should know.

Fuck, Sam’s empathy must be contagious or something.

“Alright, here we go…” Dick motioned toward the center monitor where a grainy photograph had just appeared. Dean squinted it and cocked his head to the side.

“Like I said before: Arkham is having a serious problem lately. Not that it’s ever exactly had the greatest luck as a hospital anyway, but this is different. Four people are already dead and it’s been less than two weeks. We need to figure out what the hell is going on.”

He clicked a few keys and one of the pictures grew larger on the screen. “This is Fred Daily, one of the night guards at Arkham. He was killed two nights ago during one of his rounds. It’s the first death they actually managed to catch on their security cameras…”

Another button press and the video started playing—no sounds, just terribly blurry footage of a thin, light haired man slowly making his way down a creepy ass hallway in what was apparently Arkham Asylum. For the first thirty seconds or so nothing interesting happened, but then the guard suddenly spun around, turning his back toward the camera and froze where he was standing. He must’ve been calling out or something because after a moment, he turned back to his business. Then he started shivering and he turned again, looking toward something off camera. A second later, he was hoisted in the air and thrown violently into the wall. He struggled to stand, but before he could get his feet underneath him something snatched his ankle and he was dragged off camera.

The footage whited out and Dick stopped the playback.

“The other three deaths were inmates—two happening in their private cells and the third happening in the day room where every single other patient claims to have no seen a thing. The administrator was at first claiming that it must have been another patient, but orderlies are insistent that no one was out of bed at the last headcount before Daily went on his rounds.”

Tim leaned against the console. “So Dick apparently assumes it must be a ghost instead of thinking about the fact that Arkham houses some of the most dangerous, crafty and lethal criminals we’ve ever fought. Like the Riddler, who could probably get out of his cell with his eyes closed if he tried hard enough.”

Damian frowned. “Does Nygma really strike you as the type to strangle someone so violently that their eyes pop out of their sockets?”

Sam cringed. “Now there’s a pleasant image,” he said.

“I didn’t say the Riddler did this,” Tim said, sounding exasperated. “But c’mon. Penguin, Ivy, Mad Hatter… They’re all locked up right now too. It could’ve been anyone.”

“Yeah, but what threw him across the hall like that?” Sam asked. “What dragged him across the floor? Nothing showed up on camera.”

Dick nodded emphatically. “See! Explain that.”

“These cameras clearly aren’t the best,” Tim said. “They could’ve missed it. Maybe whoever it was is moving too fast. I’m not saying you’re wrong, Dick. I’m saying maybe we should consider other, more realistic options first before jumping at the angry ghost conclusion.”

“He does have a point,” Sam said. “These cameras are pretty shitty. Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve thought something supernatural was going on and it turned out to be just people.”

Dean had a sudden, horrifying flashback to the crazy Bender family and nodded. “Still. Seems worth checking out.”

Sam nodded. “We have definitely looked into less,”

“Really?” Jason asked from right behind Dean, nearly making him jump. He’d nearly forgotten that Jason was even there. “A forty second video is it takes to convince you guys?”

Dean shrugged. “A job’s a job.”

“People are dying,” Sam said. “An angry spirit seems at least possible here and if not, then we still helped save lives.”

“God,” Jason shook his head, looking vaguely horrified. “You sounded so much like Dickie for a second I almost heard that in his voice.” Dick punched Jason lightly in the shoulder and frowned at him like an admonishing parent or something. Which, now that Dean thought about it kind of seemed to be the image Dick was going for with his weird stern looks and lectures.

“Alright then, so we’re all onboard for investigating this, ghost or no ghost,” Dick said, clapping his hands together. “So. What do we need to do to figure out if this _is_ an angry ghost?”

“First thing we really need to do is get inside the Asylum,” Sam said. “Talk to the doctors and patients. Get some EMF readings…”

“Alright!” Dean grinned. “Undercover in the crazy house.”

Damian lifted a brow at him, shaking his head slowly. “Really? This is the man that you are going to entrust out identities and our lives to, Grayson?”

Dean’s grinned slipped and he frowned at the kid. “Hey, we are professionals, Rugrat. We know what we’re doing.”

“I somehow doubt that,” Damian snorted. “But I suppose we’ll see.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at him. “Oh you will,”

“Ignore him, dude,” Jason said. “You’re never going to impress him.”

Dean sucked in a sharp breath and let it out slowly. Damian stared at him blandly and he wondered exactly what it would take to impress the kid. Or at least get a reaction out of him that didn’t consist of utter disdain and vague disgust. He could probably make that happen. Somehow.

“Undercover?” Tim cut in, bringing the conversation back on topic. “What, you and your brother? Because Dick and I probably couldn’t get away with that, not at Arkham…”

“I could,” Jason immediately volunteered.

Dick narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, maybe, but…”

“That’s perfect! Me and Jason make a great team,” Dean said, grinning again. The excitement of the hunt starting to sink into his bones. Something to chase after, to find and kill. To distract him from everything else that was currently going wrong in his life.

Dick seemed dubious about that and Sam’s expression practically mirrored his. “Yeah, that… I mean. Sure,” he said. “We could go undercover. Get a closer look at what’s really going on inside the hospital. Maybe as orderlies or guards.”

“Or patients,” Damian muttered.

Sam ignored him. “But what about the rest of you?”

“We can monitor things from here,” Tim said, gesturing to the computers. “Keep in touch. We’ve got the gadgets. And once you guys get a read on whatever this is, Dick, Damian and I can head in and assist.”

“This really doesn’t feel like a six person job,” Damian said. “Even if it is an angry spirit.”

“We’ve got nothing so far,” Dick said. “And technically it’s seven. Babs is going to be here tomorrow.”

“Babs?” Dean asked, frowning. “Wait, Barbara is in on this too?”

Dick grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Heh, yeah. Forgot to mention that, I guess. She, uh. Yeah. I actually wasn’t really friends with very many people outside of the whole hero community.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “So… hang on. Does that mean… Artemis too?”

“Yep,”

“Damn,” Dean shook his head slowly. “I… I mean. When you said you had a huge secret in high school you weren’t kidding.”

Dick grinned. “Oh there’s more. Probably should give your brain a rest for the night though. Don’t want it to explode.”

“Ha,” Dean rolled his eyes.

Dick wrapped an arm around his waist and tugged him closer. Dean squirmed a bit and fought off the blush that was heating his face. Sam and none of the others were staring in horror so he tried to make his heart stop beating so wildly, but it was one of the most difficult things he’d ever done.

“Anyway. It’s late and we’ve got a lot of planning to do tomorrow….” Dick said, glancing at Jason. “You can all crash here if you want. There’s plenty of room in the Manor.”

Jason went all stiff again and looked away. “Nah, I should probably just head back to my apartment. I can be here again in the morning if—”

“Come on, Jay,” Dick sighed heavily. “Your room’s all made up and everything. Bruce isn’t even here. You can stay for a night or two.”

Jason started to shake his head and then frowned. “My room’s made up?”

“I—I sort of asked Alfred to make sure it was ready. Y’know, just in case.” Dick shrugged. “Besides, Alfred made cookies. C’mon, you can’t say no to that!”

Jason hesitated for another moment, but Dean could tell it was mostly an act at that point. He sighed and shook his head.

“Fine, fine. I’ll stay. But just until this job is over. Or Bruce gets back, whichever happens first. And only if I get cookies.”

Dick grinned. “Perfect.” His eyes were sparkling with happiness and Dean felt the most ridiculous urge to kiss him right there in front of everyone. He quickly stamped down that urge and disentangled himself from Dick. Dick didn’t say anything, but he gave him an exasperated look that Dean was starting to recognize and feel guilty about.

“Alright, come on. I’ll lead the way.”

“Alfred will be thrilled,” Tim said, smirking. “He just loves when we have surprise guests.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fun on the way! 
> 
> Comments and critiques are welcome!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First I'd like to apologize for the long wait for this chapter! I have been working on it and struggling with it for months. Real life and mental health issues have just gotten in the way of my writing these last few months and it's been especially hard to write. I'm sorry these chapters aren't anywhere near the length I wanted--these first three chapters were supposed to be just the first chapter, but I struggled with it for so long that you guys got it in bits and pieces.
> 
> I wish I could promise that the next update would come faster, but I really have no idea. I'm definitely going to try, though, and also hopefully try to give you guys a substantial chapter where things actually happen. 
> 
> Again, I'm sorry about the wait. Thank you for your patience; I hope you guys understand.

Alfred, it turned out, was the butler. Dean vaguely recalled meeting the man briefly when he’d shown up for Artemis’s birthday party all those years ago. He was an older man with a very serious expression and white hair that had clearly once been dark. Something about his eyes made Dean wary; they were almost deceptively soft and something hard lurked behind them. Everything from his posture to his careful movements practically screamed ex-military of some sort and Dean immediately figured it would be best not to piss him off.

As Tim had guessed, he didn’t seem too pleased with the surprise guests showing up in the middle of the night, but he didn’t say anything. The look he gave Dick reminded Dean of Bobby for a moment and he was pretty sure that Dick was going to get a stern lecture about this at some point. Alfred did, however, seem very pleased to see Jason with them when they emerged from the cave and into Wayne Manor via a secret entrance that Dean was convinced would be very at home in a Bond film.

The older man had led them all into the kitchen and offered cookies and drinks—Dean was a bit disappointed to discover the options were milk or water—and Jason and the others had immediately dived in. Well, all except for Damian who only snatched one cookie and announced that he was going to bed. Dean was pretty sure he just didn’t want to be around any of them for any longer than he had to.

After hearing so much hype about these magical cookies, Dean was not going to pass up an opportunity to try them and he was not disappointed. He practically moaned around the first bite and he thought he might have seen a twinkle in Alfred’s eyes when he did.

“These are amazing,” Dean said around the mouthful.

Sam made a face and shook his head at him like a disapproving parent. “Dude, close your mouth when you chew!”

Dean flipped him off with a smirk.

“God, these are just how I remember them,” Jason said, already grabbing his third cookie from the plate. It was probably the first time Dean had seen the other man look genuinely happy since they’d met.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying them, Master Jason,” Alfred said. “I’ll be sure to save you the leftovers to take home with you when you leave.”

Dick clapped Jason on the shoulder, eyeing him closely. “Or you could just… stay here for a while after this is done. Then you could get Alfred’s cookies all the time.”

Jason snorted. “The cookies are good, Dick, but not that good.”

Dean was seriously beginning to wonder exactly what had happened to cause the rift between Jason and the rest of the ‘Batfamily’. It seemed like they had been pretty close, at least at one point. But that was an issue for another time. They had more pressing things to deal with at the moment. It _was_ getting late though, and if they were supposed to be planning their recon mission in the morning he figured they probably should get some sleep soon. He caught Dick’s eyes as the other man glanced up from his watch and smiled faintly when Dick grinned at him.

“It’s late,” Dick said, mirroring Dean’s thoughts. “Thanks for waiting up, Alfred. We’ll see you in the morning, alright?”

Alfred nodded, “Of course, Master Dick.” He turned to Dean and Sam. “I’ll show you to your rooms, if you’ll follow me.”

“Oh, uh…” Dick stopped him, looking awkward for the first time in… well, ever. “Actually, I was kind of thinking Dean could just bunk in my room. If that’s alright?” He looked to Dean at the last part, his eyes wide and still so very blue. Dean swallowed around the last mouthful of cookie and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Um,” he coughed. “That’s—Yeah. I mean. Sure…?” The last word sounded more like a question and Dean caught Sam smirking at him from across the kitchen. He glared at his little brother and stood up a bit straighter.

Alfred looked between Dean and Dick and there was definitely amusement—and maybe a bit of concern?—in his expression. He didn’t comment on it, however. He nodded. “Of course. Mr. Winchester,” he turned to Sam. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll lead you to one of our guest rooms.”

Sam followed the butler out of the kitchen and Dean watched him go with a weird pit in his stomach. It was pretty rare, ever since they’d started hunting together again, that he and Sam slept apart from one another. Most people would probably be thrilled to finally have some space away from their sibling, but Dean mostly just felt nauseous and anxious. He rallied his nerves and told himself to grow up; Sam was twenty-three years old. He could take care of himself.

Tim stood in the kitchen for a moment longer, watching Dean and Dick. “Well. I’d better head up too; see you guys in the morning.” He said.

“Yeah, me too,” Jason agreed, nodding as he and Tim hurried to follow after Alfred and Sam out of the kitchen.

Dean shook his head and cleared his throat again. “Smooth,” he said.

Dick laughed. “Well, for them, that _was_ pretty subtle.”

Dean’s laugh felt forced and he scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck, staring down at the gleaming tiles of the kitchen island. “So,” he said eloquently. “Um….”

“What I said… I mean, we don’t have to share a room, Dean. This place has plenty of spare rooms. Tim’s technically staying in one of the guest rooms right now, too… If you’re more comfortable—”

“No, it’s… fine. I—don’t mind sharing a room.” Dean’s face felt like it was on fire; he could only imagine how red he looked at that moment. It had been years since he’d been this awkward around someone he was sleeping with—planning on sleeping with. Maybe. The more he thought about it the more his nerves seemed to jangle inside of him. He couldn’t quite tell if it was fear or excitement or some combination of the two.

“You’re sure?” Dick asked. “I don’t want you to feel any kind of pressure. I get that this is all new to you, Dean. You don’t need to rush anything for my sake.”

Dean’s next laugh felt more natural and he shook his head. “Trust me, Dick, if I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t be doing it. But, c’mon, we both know it’s not the physical… stuff… that’s causing me the most problems.”

Dick smiled softly and it made Dean’s heart feel funny in his chest. “Valid point,” he said. “But I do remember you having some issues with some of the ‘physical stuff’. Not that—I’m not expecting anything to happen tonight. We should… really probably talk before we go any farther, anyway.”

Dean grimaced. “Oh, great, my favorite thing. Talking.”

“C’mon, Dean, you don’t just expect us to just jump right back into a relationship after more than a decade apart?” Dick raised a brow. “We still have a lot of things to sort out first.”

Dean shrugged. “Your attitude about this thing is way too healthy for me, you know.” He fidgeted and tried to keep his eyes on Dick’s face, but his gaze kept shifting to the countertop. “I mean, yeah, it’s been a long time and we didn’t exactly part… on the best of terms, but. In case you forgot, Dick, I’m not so good with the talking.”

Dean could actually see Dick fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “It’s been over ten years. You had to have learned _something_ in all that time.”

Dean snorted. “Oh how little you know me,” he said. “In the last decade I can count the number of long-term relationships I’ve ever had on one hand. And the number is exactly _one_ that lasted for not even two whole months, so…”

Dick looked at him a little mournfully and there was definitely something like pity in his expression, but all he did was sigh and nod. “I don’t even know why I’m surprised, really. You never seemed like the commitment type of guy.”

“Yeah, well. Hard to commit when you live the kind of life I do. Relationships aren’t something you really look for when you spend all your time ganking monsters and sleeping in shitty hotel rooms.”

“Or when you spend your nights beating up criminals,” Dick pointed out. “Still. I think it’s probably more than a little sad that my past relationship record looks better than yours. Like, really sad, Dean.”

Dean raised a brow. “You saying you’re better adjusted than I am? ‘Cos you’re probably right.” He smirked at him and Dick huffed affectionately.

“I don’t doubt it,” Dick said. “You know, I thought my life was weird and fucked up, but something tells me that your life is weirder and somehow even more fucked up than I thought…”

“You have no idea,” Dean nodded. “The angry ghosts and vampires are just the tip of the iceberg.”

“Figures,” Dick said, making a show out of looking disappointed. “I can’t fall for a _sane_ guy. That’d be too easy.” He hesitated a moment, seeming to take his time thinking about whether he wanted to ask whatever question had just popped into his mind. It made Dean fidget uncomfortably.

“Can I—I mean—is it took invasive if I ask how your family got into the whole… monster hunting thing?”

Dean blinked. That was _not_ the line of questioning he had expected. “Um. Yeah, I mean—no. It’s… Our mom—she, uh, this demon killed her when Sam and I were kids. Dad spent his whole life after that trying to track that motherfucker down and kill it.” His voice cracked and he grimaced. It wasn’t like he talked about this a lot, but he had thought it was something that maybe wouldn’t make him start tearing up like a girl.

“Sam and me are just… carrying on the fight, I guess.”

Dick frowned, his brows furrowed in a way that shouldn’t have made Dean want to lean forward and kiss the wrinkle away.

“That’s… God, you’ve really been doing this since you were a kid?” Dick sounded half incredulous and it made Dean raise a brow.

“What, like you haven’t? When exactly did you become Robin again?”

“Fair point,” Dick nodded. “But. I mean, it feels different. I at least had a home, you know? Even back in high school I could tell you and your family were… drifters.”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, well, we lived motel to motel a lot of times. Sometimes we slept in the car. That doesn’t… It wasn’t some terrible life or anything, Dick. Maybe it wasn’t a huge mansion with a butler, and private schools, but…” He frowned, not entirely sure where he was going. Saying ‘we survived’ made it sound like their childhood had been some sort of warzone, and maybe Sam would’ve described it like that, but it really wasn’t that bad.

“But…?” Dick pressed.

Dean cleared his throat. “But I mean, we had each other,” he said, lamely. He rallied himself and nodded. That was true. “Family is better than nothing.”

Dick’s smile was soft and he leaned forward and kissed Dean gently on the lips. “That’s true,” he agreed. “Family is important.” He looked around the empty kitchen and signed. “Wish I could convince everyone else around here of that.”

Dean snorted and reeled Dick closer, kissing him harder. It felt somewhat scandalous to be doing that here, in his home, in the kitchen where anyone could walk in on them. Not that the middle of an alley was really that much better…

“Good luck with that. If you figure it out maybe help me drill some of that into Sammy, huh?”

Dick lifted a brow as they separated. “Does Sam really need help in that department?”

“Oh, don’t let those puppy eyes and the floppy hair fool you,” Dean said. “Sam definitely has some issues with the whole ‘family loyalty’ thing. Not that—I don’t mean he wouldn’t take a bullet for me or anything… it’s… well, it’s complicated.”

“Right,” Dick smiled, his eyes crinkling in a way that made Dean want to kiss him again. Dean was starting to think that there wasn’t anything Dick could do that wouldn’t make him want to feel his lips against his own. “Well. It is getting late, and we should get some rest before we go over everything tomorrow…”

Dean’s mouth suddenly felt dry, but he nodded, doing his best not to show the anxiousness that had just twisted his stomach into knots.

“C’mon. My room’s this way…”

Dick grinned wider at Dean’s half-terrified expression and led Dean up the stairs to his bedroom. Dean followed, trailing just half a step behind him. Dick pushed the door open and flipped on the light, kicking his boots off as soon as he crossed the threshold. Dean hesitated again, hovering just inside the door. Dick turned to look at him, frowning.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this, Dean?” he asked. “There’s an empty guest room right down the hall if you’d rather sleep there tonight.”

“No, no,” Dean’s voice squeaked a bit and he swallowed heavily. “No, it’s… I just need a second, that’s all.”

Dick watched him skeptically as he took a deep breath and stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. He followed Dick’s lead and toed his boots off, feeling suddenly a hundred times more vulnerable without his shoes. He cast his eyes around for something of interest to comment on and frowned when he saw his duffle bag. Alfred must’ve put it there when he showed Sam upstairs…

A gentle hand on his shoulder almost made him jump and he turned his wide-eyed gaze to Dick’s concerned face.

“Seriously, if you’re uncomfortable—”

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Dean said quickly. Maybe too quickly. “It’s just. This feels more… intimate than I thought it would.”

“Sharing a bedroom?” Dick raised a brow and Dean scowled at him.

“Well generally when I share a bed with someone it’s a one-night-only type of deal. And that someone has breasts and definitely doesn’t have a—”

“Dick?” Dick smirked mischievously. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Yeah that,” he said.

“Don’t worry, Dean,” he said gently. “Nothing has to happen tonight. It’s late and we’re just going to sleep, alright? No pressure.”

Dean nodded, but his stomach still felt tangled and tight. “Okay,” he said. He watched as Dick sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his shirt off, revealing tight tanned skin that had Dean’s dry mouth suddenly salivating. He grimaced and quickly ripped his own shirt over his head just for something to do. When he looked back up Dick’s eyes were on him, glittering in the light.

“What?” he asked, glancing down at himself. His eyes lit on the scars and bruises and he made a face. Girls usually thought the scars were mysterious; it gave him an edge. But to Dick they were probably exactly what they were—battle wounds marring his flesh, failures etched into his skin. He started to say something but Dick just smiled and stood, reaching out carefully to touch his bare shoulder.

“Nothing,” he said. “Just. You’re sort of beautiful, that’s all.”

Dean’s face heated so fast he felt like twelve-year-old girl. “I… That…” he fumbled awkwardly and his hands flailed around Dick, not sure if he could touch, if he _should_ touch. “You’re not so bad yourself,” he finally managed to squeeze out. Dick grinned and his other hand grabbed one of Dean’s wrists, pulling his hand forward until it rested on Dick’s shoulder. His skin was warm and felt soft under Dean’s callused palm and he slowly let his fingers drift from his shoulder down his chest before settling at Dick’s waist.

Dick’s other hand slipped around to the small of Dean’s back and then crawled lower until he was gripping his ass through his jeans. Dean held back the squeak that somehow got lodged his throat and was amazed there was any blood left to heat his face after the sudden surge it seemed to take downward.

“See?” Dick asked quietly. “Not so scary. We can move as slow as you need to, Dean. I promise, there’s no rush.”

Dick’s words were a faint buzz in Dean’s ear. All he could think about was kissing Dick again, pressing close and finding out what his bare skin felt like against his own. The fumbling they’d done as teenagers seemed like a lifetime ago—and it wasn’t as if either of them ever got fully unclothed for any of that anyway. He licked his lips and nodded vaguely before yanking Dick toward him and practically devouring his lips.

A low, guttural moan escaped him and he felt himself hardening faster than he had in what was probably years. Talk about being an awkward teenager again. Dick laughed into the kiss when Dean started grabbing at whatever piece of bare skin he could find and began tentatively grinding against Dick’s leg.

He carefully pulled them apart and ran his fingers through Dean’s messy hair. “A little faster than I expected from you,” he said softly.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Dean started to apologize but Dick was still smiling at him.

“I know; hard to resist all of this isn’t it?”

Dean snorted and rolled his eyes, the moment feeling suddenly less heavy. He pulled Dick back for another quick kiss and then almost whimpered when Dick held him there and his hand slid down to the bulge in his jeans, squeezing gently. Dean groaned again and leaned into Dick, his hands catching and clutching at Dick’s shoulders.

Dick pulled back and looked into Dean’s eyes. His hands moved to hold Dean’s waist and he sighed. “As much as I would love to carry this to its natural progression… I just don’t know if we should right now.”

Dean bit his lip and tried to think past the heat pooling in his groin. He nodded slowly. “Yeah, you’re… you’re probably right. It’s… I… Not that this doesn’t feel pretty good, but…”

“But we’d get halfway through and you’d probably start freaking out on me.” Dick kissed him softly. “Sorry.” He said, stepping back a little mournfully. Dean took a moment to compose himself, taking deep breaths to try and slow his heartrate as he and Dick stripped down to their boxers.

It was a little easier to focus when Dick slip into bed and pulled the covers back to make room for Dean. Easier, because the knot was suddenly back in his stomach and Dean was sure that if they’d taken things farther he probably would’ve had a panic attack the second they hit the bed. He swallowed and eased his way under the blanket, nearly moaning out loud at the mattress that dipped beneath him.

“Dude, this thing is like heaven,” he said, leaning against the headboard and closing his eyes. Dick grinned at him and shook his head.

“One of the perks of being the adopted son of a billionaire,” he said.

Dean sank down into the pillows and wondered if he would ever want to leave the bed again. Dick leaned over and turned out the light, slipping down to lay next to Dean. The warmth radiating from his body made Dean’s skin tingle and his fingers twitched, wanting to reach out and touch. Then he felt Dick’s hands slip around his chest as Dick settled next to him and he tentatively wrapped his arm around the other man’s shoulders, feeling warmer and more content than he thought he had any right to.

His eyes slipped closed slowly and it was probably the best night of sleep he’d gotten since his dad had died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you guys enjoyed it. 
> 
> I'm going to try to actually have things happen next chapter. 
> 
> Comments and critiques are welcome!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another long wait for another chapter that is much shorter than I wanted. I wish I could give you guys a better excuse, but I just. I have been having so much trouble writing lately, and I really hate it. 
> 
> The thing is, I *love* writing this, and it isn't like I don't want to. It's just... The words aren't coming. 
> 
> All I can do is apologize for the wait and thank you guys for your patience and understanding. I really appreciate it. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy the chapter!

Dean woke the following morning feeling oddly well-rested and warm. He turned over and sighed, not wanting to open his eyes. Slim fingers slid through his hair and he grinned, batting them away. Dick snorted close to his ear, his breath ruffling against Dean’s skin. “C’mon, Sleeping Beauty,” he teased. “We’ve got a recon mission to plan. Plus, Alfred made pancakes.”

He cracked his eyes open, coming face to face with a grinning Dick Grayson. “I don't think I’ve had a home cooked breakfast in years…” He squinted at the other man and reached up, patting the messy mop of dark hair on Dick’s head. “You’re kinda cute with a bedhead…”

“Aw,” Dick smirked, running his fingers through Dean’s own messy hair again. “I could say the same for you…”

“Hey, Dickiebird! Up and at ‘em!” Jason’s voice suddenly called from outside the door. “You two decent in there?” He banged on the door and Dean groaned, falling back flat against the pillows.

Jason didn't wait for a response, he pushed the door open and smirked at them, looking far too amused for Dean’s liking.

“Aw, so cute!” Jason grinned. “Did you two cuddle?”

Dick threw a pillow at him. “Get out, Jason. We’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

“Better get a move on,” Jason warned. “Breakfast is already waiting and you know how Alfred feels about tardiness.” Dick rolled his eyes. “Oh, and Babs is here. With a friend.”

Dick frowned. “Friend?”

“Stephanie,” Jason elaborated. There was a strange gleam in his eyes. “Timmy is  _ not  _ happy. It’s great!”

Dick scowled, throwing the blankets back. “Put that shit-eating grin away, Jay. And tell Babs she’d better have some answers when I get down there.”

Jason mock-saluted him. “Sir, yes, Sir!” He said, before turning on his heel and heading back downstairs, that gleeful look still in his eyes.

Dean frowned as he dug through his bag for fresh clothes. “Who’s Stephanie?” He asked.

“Long story,” Dick said, pulling a shirt over his head and searching for pants. “I’ll explain later.” He paused, finally grabbing a pair and sliding them on. Dean took the opportunity to stare at his ass and pretended to be very focused on his socks when Dick looked up.

“You’ll probably like her,” Dick said after a moment. “Real rebel type, pigheaded, reckless.”

“Hey, you are at least two of those things, if not all three!”

Dick shook his head. “I am  _ not  _ reckless!”

Dean snorted. “I have a hard time believing that.”

Dick just rolled his eyes and finished getting dressed. “C’mon, pancakes are getting cold.”

* * *

 

Everyone else was already gathered in the kitchen, sitting around a rather large table that Dean was informed was  _ not _ the formal dining table. Sam looked confused and exhausted. Damian looked vaguely annoyed, though Dean was starting to suspect that it was just his default state. Jason still looked oddly pleased and Tim looked… Angry.

“Did you know about this?!” he demanded as soon as they entered the room, one hand flinging out toward their two new guests--one a young looking blonde girl dressed in jeans and a hoodie, the other…

“Barbara!” Dean grinned when he saw her, forgetting Tim’s anger for a moment. She smiled at him, green eyes crinkling behind her glasses.

“Long time no see, Winchester,” she said, one brow quirking slightly. “Your little brother got cuter.” Her head jerked toward Sam, who blushed and ducked his head a bit, hair falling in his eyes.

“ _ Dick _ ,” Tim cut in, his voice pitched high. “Did you know?”

“I'm not even sure exactly what it is I'm supposed to know, Tim, but I can promise you that Steph being here is definitely a surprise.” Dick said, leveling Babs and the blonde with a serious look.

“I can explain!” the blonde--Stephanie--insisted immediately. “It… Well, I mean… The thing is…”

“I'm training her,” Barbara cut in.

Tim glowered even harder and Dean had never been so reminded of Sam’s bitchface in his life.

“Training her for  _ what _ ?” he asked. “She said she was finished with whole vigilante thing.  _ Promised,  _ in fact.”

Stephanie narrowed her eyes at him. “She’s standing right here and can speak for herself.”

“You don't know what you're doing out there! You could get yourself seriously hurt, or  _ killed. _ ”

“That’s why Babs is training me!” Stephanie fired back. “And I'm getting better. Aren't I?” She turned back to Barbara, who nodded.

“Look, I know you guys aren't pleased about this, and Bruce is probably going to be unhappy, too, but she’s  _ good _ . She was good before, just a lot of raw potential.”

“She’s a kid who got in too far over her head and, training from Babs or not, she doesn't have the skills to be out there on the street right now, and  _ especially _ not anywhere near Arkham,” Tim said, a bit angrily.

“You were  _ all  _ stupid kids who didn't know what you were doing when you started,” Stephanie snapped. “I can do this. I’ve  _ been  _ doing this.”

Girl had spirit, Dean would give her that. She reminded him of Jo, a bit.

“What do you mean?” Dick asked, frowning. 

Stephanie’s jaw twitched a bit. “I… I’ve been going out. Couple of nights a week. As Batgirl.”

Jason whistled. “Bruce is gonna be pissed.”

“Nothing big,” Stephanie said. Dean could almost hear a ‘ _ yet _ ’ tacked onto that. “Car thieves, robberies. Petty stuff. Things  _ you guys _ don't always have the time to handle.”

“And I’ve had her back every step of the way,” Babs said. “Trust me. If I didn't think she was ready I wouldn't have brought her here.”

Damian snorted. “Or if Father had been here…”

Barbara sent the kid a nearly lethal stare. “Do you  _ really _ think Bruce doesn't know? Do any of you  _ honestly _ believe I could start training a new Batgirl and  _ Batman _ wouldn't find out almost immediately?” She moved back from the table and--fuck, she was in a  _ wheelchair.  _ How had  _ that  _ happened?  _ When  _ had that happened? He almost blurted the questions out without thinking, but the look on Barbara’s face was quietly serious.

“No one knows better the risks of this life than I do, Dick,” she said. “But Stephanie wants this, and she's _ good. _ I think she can help.”

Dick seemed to mull that over for a moment before shaking his head. “I just don't think she’s ready for something as big as this. We’re talking about Arkham here; Killer Croc, Dent, Zsasz,  _ the Joker.  _ Putting an untrained kid in there is too dangerous.”

Stephanie folded her arms over her chest, frowning. “I’m not a kid. And I  _ can  _ do this.When was the first time  _ you  _ went up against someone like the Joker?”

Tim’s lips were pressed together in a thin line. “But we all had more training than you have,” he said. “And that still wasn't enough sometimes.” He gestured to Barbara. “Look at what he did to Barbara! To  _ Jason. _ ”

“Thanks for the reminder, Replacement,” Jason muttered.

Tim winced and looked apologetic, but Dick cut in before he could say anything else.

“It’s just too risky. This is Arkham. Some of the most dangerous criminals we’ve ever faced. And I know you’re not just some random kid, Steph, but you don't have the experience that the rest of us do.”

She frowned and looked at Dean and Sam with narrow eyes. “What about these two?’ She demanded. “I’ve never seen either of them around here before.”

“Hey, sweetheart, we aren't a couple of newbies. Sam and me have been fighting monsters since we were kids.” He glanced over at Damian. “Longer than some of you have been alive.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “And I’m still not convinced that it’s a good idea for you to be joining us, but apparently Grayson’s libido trumps logic and reason.”

Babs actually snorted at that, but Dick just ignored him.

“They know what they’re doing. And this also potentially runs closer to their area of expertise than ours, so.”

Barbara raised a brow. “ _ Their  _ area of expertise?” she asked.

“Dick still thinks the hospital is haunted,” Tim elaborated. “And apparently Sam and Dean hunt ghosts.”

Dean made a face. There was definitely a better way to describe what they did for a living.

“So I can’t go along, but you will take the fucking  _ Ghost Busters _ ?!” Stephanie demanded.

“Do we look like we’re wearing stupid jumpsuits?” Dean half growled. “This ain't a movie. Trust me, if this is an angry spirit it’s going to be more like  _ The Shining. _ ”

Stephanie still looked unconvinced and Babs’s expression hadn't changed. Dick sighed and ran a hand over his face.

“Maybe… Maybe Stephanie can help you, help us, from here while Dean and Jason are going in for recon…” He suggested.

Stephanie still seemed put out, but Barbara nodded.

“That’s fair,” she said. “Probably a better idea than just throwing her head-first into the Asylum anyway.”

“Wouldn't want me to strain myself by actually  _ doing something _ ,” Stephanie muttered.

Sam smiled faintly at her. “Being benched might be frustrating, but having to sit on the sidelines can be a pretty good way to learn up close without the risk.”

“Tch,” she scoffed. “What’s the point  _ without the risk _ ?”

“When we were kids I was the one sitting in motels rooms by myself, or pouring over old books for obscure information that our Dad didn't have time to look up.” He glanced sideways at Dean. “I sometimes resented being their research boy back then, but now? Now I know more information about the monsters we hunt without having to always Google it…”

Stephanie still didn't seem convinced, but she didn't argue. Dean was honestly surprised to hear Sam say he resented being left behind; he’d always  _ hated  _ hunting. Then again, he also hated feeling useless, so maybe that was it.

Dick just sighed and shook his head. “Let’s just eat breakfast, then we can talk shop.” His eyes went to Tim, who only seemed vaguely appeased, and then to Damian, who seemed… Well as unhappy and uninterested as ever.

Dick just rolled his eyes and pulled his plate toward him before sending the others a sharp look. Eventually they all settled down and started eating, but Dean could feel the slight tension still hanging in the air.

* * *

 

After breakfast they headed back down to the Batcave. It felt somehow bigger than it had the night before, but then again all of the lights were on now and Dean looked around in wonder.

Display cases housed uniforms that he has only ever seen in grainy photographs and on the news, weapons glittered at him from shelves and racks throughout the space and… Was that a  _ dinosaur _ ? How had he missed that the night before?

“Arlight,” Dick headed over to the computers and crossed his arms. “First thing we need to do is get Dean and Jason inside Arkham. Quickest way to do that is to get them jobs on the inside.”

“Shouldn't be too difficult,” Babs said. “Get into their systems, copy some key cards… They’re in desperate need of new orderlies right now so the new faces wouldn't even be questioned…”

“Think you can handle that?” Dick asked.

Babs snorted. “Please. I could do it blindfolded,” she said. “Give me a couple of hours and I’ll have them in by tomorrow morning.”

“Why are  _ they _ going in?” Stephanie asked. “Why not you or Tim?”

“We’re too easily recognized,” Dick said. “No use in either of us going undercover. We  _ are _ going in tonight though…”

“We are?” Tim asked.

“Yes. I want to get a feel for the place. Plus, they’ve done some remodeling since the Joker’s last escape. Babs or you can probably pull up the new floor plans, but it’ll be easier to guide Jason and Dean through the place if we’ve seen it ahead of time. Bruce already talked to the commissioner to set it up last week; we’re going in under the pretense of interrogating Croc on the deaths near the sewers… Which, thanks to Sam and Dean we know now was a vampire nest.”

“Vampires,” Barbara raised a brow. “That’s a new one.”

Jason snorted. “Yeah. Should’ve been there, Babs. I think I can still smell the sewer shit on me from those assholes.”

“Maybe that’s just your natural odor, Todd,” Damian muttered.

“Anyway,” Dick cut in before an argument could erupt. “Tim and I are going in as Nightwing and Red Robin--”

“And what about me?” Damian demanded. “We agreed I would go in as well.”

“That was when Batman was going to be here,” Dick said. “Bruce is still in China and will be for a few more days. Until then I don't want to risk sending you in.”

“Father trusted me to handle myself!” Damian argued. “There is no reason to change that simply because he isn't here.”

Dick frowned at him. “You follow his orders; you question mine.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “I wonder why,” he muttered, glancing toward Sam and Dean.

Dick stared Damian down, looking like he wanted to say something but wasn't sure if he really should. So Dean intervened before either of them could start arguing.

“I think you should let the kid go in,” he said. “You’ll have you and Tim there to keep an eye on him.”

“All due respect, Dean,” Tim said, “you don't know what this kid is capable of.”

Dean raised a brow. “All the more reason to send him in.”

Damian arched one brow in a surprisingly imperious look. “It seems like your boyfriend is talking more sense than you are, Grayson.”

Dick looked livid and Dean hurriedly added. “C’mon, the kid wants to go in, and if Batman was gonna let him go before--”

“The answer is no, Dean,” Dick said, his voice tight. “He’s a child.”

An unsteady tension had fallen in the air and Dean clenched and unclenched his fists. “He’s  _ Robin.  _ If he can handle the rest of Gotham with Batman--”

“Batman isn't here and Damian is only  _ ten, _ I’m not letting him within spitting distance of Arkham. And frankly, Dean, you don't know anything about this; you don't get a say.”

Jason cleared his throat awkwardly. “Um… Why don't we talk about what Dean and I are gonna do when we go in?” He suggested.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “Because I thought we’d agreed that I was going in with them and I’m kind of uncomfortable letting my brother go in without me.”

Dick and Dean were staring at one another, the tension feeling like a physical thing. Dean wanted to say something, anything, but he was pretty sure whatever he said would only make Dick angrier. He wasn't entirely sure what the big deal was; Damian was young, yes, but he was also clearly well trained and  _ Batman’s son.  _ If Batman thought he could handle Arkham then why was Dick refusing to let him go along?

He thought about how he would feel if someone tried to argue with him about Sam’s safety when they were younger… Or now, for that matter. He probably would’ve decked them. He let out a breath and started to say something when Alfred interrupted them.

“Master Dick? Master Bruce is on the telephone for you.”

Dick suddenly went pale. “Shit,” he muttered. “I’ll be right there. Babs, can you…?” He gestured at the others and she nodded.

“Sure thing, Dickie,” she said, rolling her wheelchair toward. “Good luck with the big man.”

Dick snorted, but he still seemed pretty anxious as he headed to a more isolated corner to pick up a landline there. Dean frowned and edged away from the group, partly wanting to apologize and partly wanting to know what Batman had to say about their growing operation.

It wasn't eavesdropping; it was gathering intel. Obviously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **HIATUS NOTICE: I know it's been forever and a day since I updated this story and I truly apologize for that. I promise you guys I haven't forgotten or given up on this story. However, Real Life has been more than a little rough for me lately. I thought I was finally getting over that bad patch, but it turns out I was very very wrong and mental illness is a real bitch. I don't want anyone to think I've abandoned this, but I also refuse to just try and shit out an update that I'm not happy with. I need some time to get my head back on straight and I really don't know how long that will be. So until then, I am going to take a step back and try and sort Real Life out and then I promise I will return to this. I appreciate all of your support and patience, truly. Thank you.**
> 
>  
> 
> So. That's a thing. 
> 
> Not sure how I feel about Stephanie. Really nervous writing her. I also didn't intend to introduce her so soon, but she demanded to be here so... Here she is. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Please let me know what you think!


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